


Can't Look at You (12th Doctor x Reader)

by whowantstostayinrealityanyways



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 11:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17621600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowantstostayinrealityanyways/pseuds/whowantstostayinrealityanyways
Summary: Prompt: “Could I request a fluffy/angsty twelve x reader with the sentence prompt “Don’t you dare leave. Not now.” ? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”





	Can't Look at You (12th Doctor x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Yeah so, the way I saw it, this could only go two ways: dramatic fight scene with lots of trust issues or a petty excuse when one of them was lazy/sick…. I’m sure you can tell which one I went with. Sorry, it sucks, don’t hurt me. Enjoy!

“ _Run!_ ”

Your hand instinctively reached out and grabbed his as you both ran for your lives. Your chest heaved as your legs pumped and your lungs protested but you didn’t dare stop.

You could see the glorious blue doors crowned with the words ‘Police Box’ ahead of you. That box only meant one thing to you right now: safety.

 

He slammed the door behind you when you both had just barely made it inside them.

Your heart was beating insanely fast as you bent over to catch your breath.

Despite the life-threatening danger you’d both just managed to outrun, the first sound to escape either of your lips was laughter.

 

“ _God_ , you’re an idiot,” you straightened yourself back up and walked over to his side.

 

He was called The Doctor and he was your best friend in all the universe. Which was odd considering he was thousands of years older than you and looked like he could be your granddad. He had fluffy gray curls, crystal blue eyes, was relatively tall compared to most and dressed like a lazy teenager or a magician; there was no in between.

You’d met him by mere chance through an old friend of yours, Clara Oswald. You had caught her sneaking off after grabbing a cup of tea at the shop down the street and upon seeing the TARDIS, you’d demanded to come along. That’s how it started anyway. But it slowly turned into an addiction. You would take Clara’s place when she was too busy then you’d just stay on board and suddenly it was just you and The Doctor almost all the time.

Just as slowly as he had taken over your life, he also took your heart. You couldn’t explain it but it must have started slow, as all love does. It started with his eyes for you, you were certain of that, that’s what you were drawn to first. Then the smile. The laugh. And finally, all at once, he was the most dashing, amazing man you had ever laid eyes on.

 

Of course, you couldn’t tell him that so when the realization had suddenly hit you all at once after you’d looked at him a little too hard, you’d had to quickly excuse yourself to your room to stop yourself from passing out. You’d checked your heart rate, definitely racing, your face, a mad red, and then you’d laid on top of your bed feeling the weight of your sudden love crushing your chest. You thought you’d pop right then and there.

 

Thankfully, you hadn’t. But you did have to avoid eye contact now for fear that one look and you’d spill everything.

 

“Oh,  _I’m_ the idiot?” He questioned you. “Whose idea was it to ask them if they wanted  _a cup of tea?_ ”

“I was trying to be hospitable!”

“They were holding a  _gun_ against your head!”

“There’s no better time to be hospitable,” you both laughed.

.

.

.

You’d been in some tough spots before, you and The Doctor that is. But this seemed particularly tough today.

 

“DOCTOR!” you grumbled through a stuffed up nose and a sore throat.

“Oh, stop your whining, I’m nearly done,” he carefully stepped into your room with a tray in hand. On the said tray was a bowl of soup, a glass of water and various medications. You took it from him gratefully.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, making sure to avoid his eyes.

 

“You need to take better care of yourself, I can’t always drop everything to help you.”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he sat down in a chair beside your bed, “you’ve actually given me a good excuse not to go to that  _thing_ with Clara tonight.”

“You mean the Teachers Christmas Party?”

“Whatever it was,” he waved you off and pointed to the soup. “You  _need_ to eat.”

 

“Right,” you picked up your spoon and tasted it. The liquid burned the back of your throat where the infection was setting up camp but your taste buds loved it. “ _Oh my God_ , this is  _amazing_.”

“One would hope after two thousand years, I might be able to cook soup.”

“No, this is like  _really_ good,” you said in between another couple of painful bites. “Why don’t you cook for me  _all_ the time?”

“Cause that would be an awful lot of work.”

“Fair enough,” you laughed a bit too hard, unfortunately, causing you to cough.

 

“You should get some rest,” The Doctor suddenly stood up.

“ _No_ ,” your hand shot out to grab his sleeve. “ **Don’t you dare leave. Not now.** “

“(Y/n)-”

“ _Doctor_ ,” you stopped him before he could use actual logic against you. “As far as I’m concerned this is  _your_ fault.”

“ _My fault?!_ ”

“ _Whose_ idea was it to climb through a sewage tunnel  _in the snow_?!”

“How  _else_ we were supposed to escape-?!”

“Your fault.”

“… Fine. My fault,” you didn’t look but you knew that he had just rolled his gorgeous eyes.

 

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Stay with me, watch TV and make me more soup?”

“Fine,” he huffed and sat back down.

“Thank you,” you smiled and squeezed his arm.

.

.

.

Halfway through your favorite sick day movie, The Doctor suddenly hit pause.

 

“Hey-!”

“Why won’t you look me in the eyes?” he said completely out of the blue.

“I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you crossed your arms.

 

“Yes you do,” you felt him shift his weight onto the bed. He grabbed your hand and it was at that moment you knew you were going to fall to pieces. “You haven’t been able to look at me in  _weeks_ … (Y/n), if it’s something I’ve done-”

“ _No_!” you shouted too suddenly and by accident met his eyes. It felt like the whole world was suddenly moving very, very slow. Which, knowing The Doctor, it could have been. “I-I  _just_ , I  _couldn’t_ -” No coherent thought was forming in your head as you continued to stare at his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you.”

“What?”

“I mean-!?” You suddenly pulled your hand out of his and buried your face in your arms as to not allow yourself to be distracted by him again. “Nothing. It-It’s nothing.”

 

“You love me?”

“I-I should go,” you didn’t dare look at him. Instead, you scooted further away from him.

“ **Don’t you dare leave me. Not now** ,” he used your own line against you.

“Why not? I’ve ruined  _everything_.”

“How so?”

  
“Things can’t go back to the way they were, it’s too weird.”

“Well, why should they go back the same?”

“What?”  
  


“(Y/n), will you do me the honor of going on a date with me? After you’re not sick anymore or course.”

“You mean it?” You finally looked up at him. He was smiling, a real smile at that.

“Of course, I love you too.”


End file.
